Madhouse
by HogwartsAsWeKnowIt
Summary: A year after NY, the Avengers move into Stark Tower. Together, they become a close yet constantly-quarreling family. However, Fury decides to add another SHIELD agent to their team. How will they react to Kay Lynn, the newly created half super-soldier? With all they go through together, it's no wonder the Tower had become a madhouse. (OC, post-IM3, pre-T2, includes all Avengers)
1. ACDC

Title:  
**MADHOUSE**

**Full Summary:**  
It been over a year since the Battle of New York. Ever since, the Avengers have changed. Peaceful nights of sleep weren't common, especially with the nightmares filled with the Battle and memories of their past. Even without the dreams, Tony's music was typically blared throughout the night. This was just one flaw of the Avengers living together. After Stark Tower was done with restoration, Fury ordered for them to pack some bags and move in. With all the quarrels and everything this newly acquainted family goes through, it's amazing the building is still standing.

(Includes POVs from each character, explaining some of their aftermath from NYC.)

(After Iron Man 3 but before Thor 2)

**Disclaimer:**  
I am not Marvel. I am a teenage girl who's life was ruined by the Avengers. You do the math.

**By The Way...**  
And I just want to get one thing straight: I do not ship Stony. I ship Stony as friends, not as lovers. Just friends.

Rated T for language. And I may throw in some lover stuff. Not sure yet. :)

* * *

**Chapter 1**  
**AC/DC**  
**(STEVE'S POV)**

There was nothing normal about Stark Tower anymore. Period. And to be honest, Fury should have known better than thinking that just because six heroes work together doesn't mean they could live together. I mean, sure, it's nice sometimes, but for the most part... Why did I ever agree to this?  
Such as right now. I'm a light sleeper because of my years as a soldier and the PTSD that came with that lovely burden. Even if you slept like a baby, there's no way one could stay asleep with the volume of Tony's music at 2 in the morning.  
Thanks to Tony, I now know some modern music. Well, AC/DC's pretty modern right? Yeah, yeah, yeah it's an 80s band whatever. But I also knew Black Sabbath, Nickelback, Redlight King, Imagine Dragons, 30 Seconds To Mars...stuff like that. Unfortunately I've had to learn these bands by Tony cranking them out each night as he worked on his new collection of suits. All the Avengers were pretty familiar with these titles, seeing as we were the ones having to go down and yell at Stark to turn the damn volume down.  
I swear to God, someday I'm just gonna punch the speakers out of the wall.  
That currently sounded like a good idea, as I had several pillows over my head trying to block out the horrible screeching noises of the heavy metal song on. However, it failed to cause much of a difference seeing that with my serum, I had much more powerful hearing than the average man.  
Giving up, I stood up from my elegant bed and made way to Tony's workshop. Stark had spent a more-than-needed amount of money on restoring Stark Tower after the Battle of New York. Brand new marble floors, bulletproof windows, etc; the rooms he and Pepper had designed for each of the Avengers were also fancier than necessary. I'm not really one for style, or luxury, and living in the Tower was definitely different than my pathetic excuse of an apartment.  
The elevator seemed to be moving faster than was usual. I had been on the 76th floor, and made it to the lobby in a matter of seconds. Everything here was so fast and modern, I still amaze myself by successfully making coffee in the mornings.  
From the lobby I went down a hall and a flight of stairs to what I'm told is extremely similar to Tony's workshop in the old Malibu house.  
Through the glass, I could see Stark busy at work on one of his old hot-rods. "Burn It To the Ground" by Nickelback had begun, a title I was extremely familiar with. Tony sang with it off-key, if you could even call any of it singing.  
I'm still wondering what happened to music like Glenn Miller Orchestra and Andrew Sisters. Just another thing of the past, I guess.  
I submitted the pass code to the door and then entered. Tapping on Stark's shoulder, he jumped. Obviously hadn't heard the door. Or me.  
Looking him straight in the face with the most intimidating stature I could achieve being so tired, I asked with authority ringing through my voice, "Turn. Down. The. Music."  
"Or what?"  
"I'll punch the speakers out of the wall."  
Tony took this very seriously and quickly changed the amplification.  
"Now go to sleep," I added for good measure.  
His voice stopped me before I could reach the door, "You know I can't."  
I paused for a moment. "Tony, I know what you're dealing with," I spun around, speaking softly. "It's normal for soldie- people that fight battles to have these kinds of dreams." I was genuinely surprised by the sudden seriousness of the man I knew so well to just try and crack a joke every second.  
"How often?"  
"Pardon?"  
"How often, er, long have you...had to deal with it?"  
"Every since my first day in combat."  
"Just...how?"  
"I remind myself that it's what needs to happen in war."  
"But you don't like killing people...?" It was a question.  
"Killing the enemy is part of war, yes. Enjoying it, no."  
He didn't answer for awhile, continuing to not face me and focus on the engine in front of him.  
"Do you wanna talk?"  
I raised an eyebrow. "About?"  
"Look, Cap, I need help. And you're the only one who I think will understand. We're a lot more alike than you think, ya know."  
As I looked at the man in front of me, I felt sorry for him. Tony Stark can act strong, put a smile on for the cameras, but deep down, he was probably the weakest of us all.  
"I know."  
"I mean, how many people come back from the dead AND fought in the... Loki thing? Just you and me."  
"Yes, I do believe that brings it down to about 2."  
"C'mon let's go have a drink."

* * *

Like I was saying before, there were advantages to our living situation. Such as more opportunities to bond. Natasha and Clint's relationship had improved extremely after the battle, even though there was occasionally still some cognitive recalibration. Pepper and Tony seemed to be getting along nicely, especially after the fiasco with the Mandarin. Thor had requested Jane move in with them, but Fury denied it. Stark and I had began to learn to tolerate each other, becoming the closest thing for friends possible for both of us. I was still very guarded, with my horror-filled past and scarred heart. But I guess we were all that way, now that I think about it. Agent Barton had his misfortune with Loki, Natasha still had red in her ledger and a bad history with SHIELD. Stark had his torturing in Afghanistan (which I knew little about and wasn't about to go searching for answers), and Thor had to live with the betrayal of his brother. And of course, Banner had the Other Guy to manage. We didn't really talk about any of that much, it just was. It was part of our separate pasts and differences, each shaping us into who we were today.  
After taking the elevator to the top of the tower, Stark poured us both a shot of whiskey and we stood opposite, the countertop island in between us. This room had taken the worst beating out of them all, since Tony was thrown out the window, the Iron Man suit had kinda crashed the wall, and Loki had been smashed around by Hulk. After the restoration, it was pretty much back to normal. Tony had added a few things, such as a few couches, tables, and posters. This room was also considered the 'kitchen', and therefore storage had been added for food. Also, the necessities of a kitchen had been installed.  
"I hate having to live here," Tony hissed.  
"I'm not too happy with Fury's decision either but we can make it wor-"  
"No, it's not that. It's New York."  
I looked out the window to the glittering skyline; even at this time of night, the grand Big Apple was so alive. Although it'd been a year since the Battle, Manhattan still hadn't fully recovered. Nobody had.  
"Yes. I know."  
"I mean, why here?"  
"I don't know."  
"I hate it all."  
"All?"  
"Not you guys, I think it's good we're together like this. But SHIELD. The damn authorities."  
"The government's not at it's best, I'll agree."  
"What was it like?"  
"What?"  
"The forties."  
"You're seriously curious?"  
"Not really. I'm just tired of talking."  
I smiled. "Thought so. You should go to bed. Please Tony."  
"You go to bed."  
"I could, now that your stupid AC/DC is off."  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back it up there. Since when is AC/DC stupid?"  
"When it's played in the middle of the night and I'm trying to sleep."  
Tony shrugged. "Matter of opinion I guess."  
"Go to bed."  
"What're you gonna do?"  
"Find the vodka."  
"Okay. I'll go to bed then." With that he turned and entered the elevator.  
Chuckling, I grabbed the bottle. I couldn't get drunk. I just wanted the taste; something to burn my mouth. Laying down on the couch, I thought _what the hell?_ and than began drinking.

* * *

I was awoken by a slap to the face. Automatically, I punched out into the air in front of me; my fist collided with something rock solid.  
I opened my eyes to Thor, holding a pillow and trying to look as innocent as possible. He looked strange in a plain T-shirt and jeans, although this attire was something he wore often nowadays. Just guessing, but I'm pretty sure that solid thing that I hit was his abs.  
"Morning salutations to you as well."  
The lot of the Avengers plus Pepper were all having their various breakfasts. Last night, I must of fallen asleep on the couch. Of course, a lot of hitting and punching went along when the six us had even the smallest quarrel; I tried to stay out of it most of the time, but somehow always manage to get sucked into the middle and have to end it. So the pillow was extremely mild; I was surprised that the god of thunder didn't sit on me or something.  
I glared up at him, considering if I should grab a pillow myself. I resisted the urge, and roused myself, desiring a cup of coffee. As I was pouring, I realized most everyone was staring at me.  
"Okay. What?!"  
Natasha held up an empty bottle of vodka.  
"Oh please."  
"Did you drink it?"  
"Yes. But I can't get drunk. How many times do we have to go over this?"  
"It worries me though," Pepper stood in the corner, drinking black coffee. "This is the third night, this week, you've done that."  
"And were you and Tony having shots?" Clint had went to put his cereal bowl in the sink, and noticed two dirty shot glasses.  
"We only had one then he went to bed. God, people. Speaking of which, where is Tony?" I remarked, noticing his absence for the first time.  
"Sleeping. I don't have the heart to wake him seeing as he barely gets any rest," Pepper sighed.  
"Cap, you need to stop consuming so much alcohol," Bruce obviously felt like lecturing but thought better of it.  
"My metabolism runs 4 times-"  
"Faster than the average human," Bruce finished for me. "I know, Cap. Even so, you still have it running through your system."  
"I'm fine."  
"Don't lie. None of us are fine," Clint leaned against the island, facing the window. The sun was just beginning to shine over the majestic buildings scraping the sky.  
"Then what do you want me to say?"  
"That you'll stop."  
"I'm not promising anything."  
"Please Rogers," Natasha looked up to me. "We're concerned about you. You've been acting strange lately."  
Surprising myself with a laugh, I then said, "I'm not acting weird at all. You're just not used to the other side of me."  
"C'mon Steve-"  
"No. Can we just drop it?" I felt myself getting edgy. To break the tension, I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.  
The News starting blaring, as I unwrapped a granola bar. I knew all of this was concern for me, which I did appreciate, I just wasn't used to it. Ever since my abrupt transition from the 1940s to the 21st century, I've been on my own. And then the Avengers Initiative came along and changed everything. I just hope they don't notice that I haven't been eating as much as I should.  
Natasha was still looking at me. I nodded, trying to give her the reassurance I was perfectly alright. I knew she wasn't convinced but she did turn away.  
I sighed heavily. Just then, Stark entered.  
"Whoaaaa! Tension alert! What happened?"  
"Thor hit the Captain with a pillow," Clint chewed on an apple.  
Applauding, Tony laughed, "Oh-ho! And who's idea was that?"  
Natasha raised her hand.  
"Ah yes! I'm finally having an effect on you guys!"  
The response was silence, except for the television.  
"Okay, what really happened?"  
Drinking the last sip of my coffee, I slammed the mug on the counter.  
"I'm gonna go workout."

* * *

Seeing that Fury rarely let us out of the Tower without permission, Tony created a basement of the Tower. This became like a training arena. It reminds me of a scene from The Hunger Games, the movie Tony made us all watch. Well, it was kinda just on and we came and went as we pleased. I was amazed by the special effects; Stark thought it was pathetic. But, seeing as I have no idea what "Internet" and "Microsoft Word" is, what do I know? Anyways, our training room was like the tributes': plenty of weapons, a lot of disputes, and proving ourselves. When we're all in here, it's pretty much just havoc; I have no idea how this Tower hasn't turned into the Hunger Games itself with the motives we can work up and some of brawls we've fought.  
I walked over to the punching bag. I didn't even bother wrapping my hands. Flashbacks filled my mind. Peggy, Bucky, Red Skull, Howard, Dr. Erksine... Loki.  
Whoa. I stopped. I hadn't really had any New York flashbacks. Sighing, I knew there was nothing I could do about it.  
I must if been alone for about two hours, without a break. My hands had started bleeding a long time ago, causing scarlet drips to slither down the bag.  
"Tony! Are you down here?" Pepper yelled through the doorway.  
"No he's not! It's just Steve!" I replied.  
She left.  
Pepper must of told the others I was still down here. Because Natasha came down not five minutes later.  
"Rogers?"  
I didn't answer. I just kept punching.  
"Steve!"  
Not answering.  
To get my attention, she threw a knife which stabbed the bag right above my hand next to my head. That got me to stop.  
"Nice aim."  
"Wanna do 1 on 1?"  
"That's not gonna end well for you."  
"I'll take my chances."  
"Should we use weapons?"  
"Grab a knife."  
"Fine then."

* * *

After a short battle with Natasha (I won, but she did manage to give me a decent scrape), I went back to the kitchen, running my hands under cold water then drank with my mouth under the tap. Although I'm sure Agent Romanoff noticed my bleeding, she didn't say anything. I grabbed an apple then went up to my room. I decided to clean up a bit, but as I made my bed, I got quite a few blood stains on the sheets. I didn't really mind. After making it, I lay down, realizing how tired I was. There was a TV in my room, though I barely used it. I flipped it on, wondering if there was anything good on. Actually, I would sketch, but I was too exhausted. I watched a few minutes of Criminal Minds, and then got bored, then found an episode of NCIS.  
Just another typical day.


	2. Tinkering

_Sorry it's so much shorter. Been busy. But Christmas Vacation is coming up and I'll try to post a few chapters then. :)_

**Chapter 2  
****Tinkering**  
**(TONY'S POV)**

After Rogers had stormed out of the kitchen, Romanoff had briefly explained. Apparently Capsicle had more than I had to drink last night. Of course, I didn't really blame him. We all had our ways of coping, and mine was building. It was the only thing I could do without screwing it up. Recently, I had just begun to work on a new collection of suits. I had added few things: retro-reflection panels, a built-in arc reactor, and complete secrecy about it. Only the ones I trusted most on the Avengers team knew; which was no one. Ever since the Mandarin, I had lost a lot. But one thing couldn't be taken away from me: I was Iron Man. Even without the suits. Or the arc-reactor. I just now had to recreate that.

I felt empty without my reactor. It was like a hole in my chest. I used to literally have a machine working my body. And after they removed the shrapnel, the energy source that powered the suits were gone. Except for me. It was sad that it had to take years of working in the suit for me to realize that it was me that powered the suit, not some self-sustaining energy source. Without Tony Stark, there was no Iron Man. But without Iron Man, there was no Tony Stark. That's why I was so desperate to rebuild the suits. And with the Avengers pairing up again, I needed some power other than billions of dollars.

The loss of the arc reactor wasn't the only thing that left a gaping hole in my chest. It was the loss of the suits as well.

Sure, call me a selfish little brat, that I've got to have "what I want when I want it and I want it now". Because I knew Pepper liked me without the suits. I was 'less distracted from our relationship'. But to be honest, I felt even more distracted than I had before. How could I focus on her when I couldn't even figure out myself? So much had changed so abruptly that I couldn't even tell what was true and what was a lie. The nightmares at night were real to me; they weren't flashblacks, they were something real. Something I couldn't help, yet desperately fought. If only I could physically fight it, I would be satisfied. But I had never been good with the mental fighting. I mean, yoga, pilates, that just wasn't my thing. Alcohol was more my specialty.

My hands of a craftsman worked diligently as I welded titanium/gold alloy and drew blueprints. The retro-reflection panels were somewhat of a diffuculty. Well, not really a diffuculty. More just different... Right now, I was at three computer screens, working hard on digital blueprints.

Pepper entered, turning down my music as she entered. Immediently, I switched applications to the Internet, reading the News. Recently, I had made quite a mess of my workshop: beer bottles scattered around, same with tools, paper, pens, scraps of metals, food wrappers, etc. WIth her seven inch heels (that I had no idea how she contantly managed) she tiptoed over my mess.

"Jesus, when are you going to clean all this crap up?"

"Somepoint. In time."

"What're you doing anyways?"

"What do you need?"

"There's a conference on Friday at 5:00 p.m."

"Good. I'll be there at 7."

"Brilliant. That's when it actually starts."

I groaned.

"Anything else?"

"Clean up your mess."

She stepped out precariously. I immediently continued on my blueprints.

* * *

I must of been down there for the majority of the day. My stomach's rumbling was the only thing that made me concious of time. The last time I had ate was this morning, which was just a feeble bagel. Thor ate most of the food, leaving the rest of us to fend for ourselves. I checked my watch. 6:38. Yep, time for food.

No one had bothered me since Pepper, and I wasn't surprised. During the day, we all did our seperate things. Except for breakfast, we barely saw each other. I mean, with 90+ floors, we had enough room to escape. Unless one of us had set a time for us to meet, we pretty much avoided each other. Well, not really avoided. Just never-randomly-bumped-into-eachother-and-enjoyed-it.

That was one of the reasons I was so surprised to find Thor already making a trip up on the elevator.

"Sup," I greeted.

"Salutations."

Out of the two of us, you could probably guess who'd lived in California.

"Where you goin'?"

"My quest is for nourishment."

I poked his stomach. "Better lay off the chips, Pointbreak. Can't keep abs that way."

He lifted up his shirt, to show a sturdy eight-pack. "I believe that I am fine. Much obliged for the concern, Man of Iron."

"I did not need to see that."

"Apologies."

"Just shut up."

He smirked but said nothing.

"Heard anything about Loki?"

At this innocent question, the massive man (who towered over me by over a foot) turned rigid and his facial expression became stolid.

"No."

"The maniac's still locked up, I reckin'?"

"Correct."

The elevator's doors opened, and I briskly exited. Thankfully, I reached the fridge before the god. I grabbed quite a stash of food, as much as I could hold. Deciding not the dine with Thor and his over-the-top dialect, I stepped back in the elevator, with all intentions to return to the shop. But instead, I asked Jarvis, "Hey J, where's Pepper?"

"34th floor, sir."

"Thank you."

I traveled to the 34th floor, which was silent upon my entering. Pepper was deeply engrossed in some paperwork (that I didn't care about and probably should), and typed away diligently at her laptop.

"'Ello," I made my appearance known.

She jumped, "Tony! What?" she said the last word with a don't-disturb-me-I'm-working tone.

"Just saying hi,"

"And eating?" she relocated some papers to make room for the excessive amount of stuff in my hands.

"Yep."

"Okay," she faced me. "What do you need? Cash?"

"No. Can't I just innocently say hi?" I opened a yogurt.

"That's not in your nature."

"I think we need a night-out."

"Oh-h. _We_? Or _you_?"

"We. As in two. Both. _Dos_. _Zwei. Deux._ How many languages are you going to make me say it in?"

"With S.H.I.E.L.D. watching our every move, how are we gonna pull that off?"

"It's not like they have cameras in here. And besides, I could hack into their system, plant a virus... ya know, keep 'em busy for awhile."

"Now that's just cruel."

"No," I tried to mimic Thor's manly voice, "it is a divertissement."

"What the hell does that even mean?"

"I have no idea. Now, please Pepper, we both know we need this."

"What's wrong with taking a shower together?"

"Because you don't know if like, Birdbrains or somebody is gonna walk in."

"I think I know what you need," she pointed at me. "Is a week away. From all of it. Avengers, this messed up city, the Tower. Just you and me. Australia's nice this time of year."

"I just-"

She cut me off. "It's not like you're a threat anymore. You don't have the suits. You aren't Iron Man. You're just Tony Stark."

Although she meant the words as a matter-of-fact, they stung. "I am Iron Man."

"Oh gawd, here we go again."

"With or without the suits, Pepper, you know this."

"But my point is-"

"I realize your point." I could feel the tension rising.

"I need to work."

"I need to train."

I clutched my store of assorted food. Before I could reach the door, she stopped me.

"What type of training are you doing now?"

"Just physical," I replied cooly.

"What's your timed mile?"

"4:37."

"Better go practice then."

"Shut up," I snapped as I left.

* * *

However, I did take Pepper's advice and worked on my mile. In jeans and Converse I ran on the treadmile. Romanoff was training across the room from me, with a bow and arrow. She was hitting targets alright, as I continually heard a satisfactory _thunk_ about every minute. This went on for about 10 minutes. Then she came over to watch me sweat like heck.

"You should be more active."

"Holy crap. Is- is-" I was breathing hard, "it Ann-oy Tony Day?"

"Why? Who else was breathing down your neck?" she sipped water.

"Pepp."

"Ah. That makes more sense. How are you two nowadays?"

"Fine. Why?"

"Dunno. You just seemed a little tense lately."

"It's not about Pepper."

"What then?"

For some reason, I had this interesting bond with Romanoff and felt I could trust her with certain things. I mean, she knew I was dying when Pepper didn't.

"Just some inner struggles I guess," I stopped and hopped off the machine, grabbing my water bottle. I sat next to her.

"This too shall pass."

I was surprised. That's not what I had been expecting to come out of her mouth. Those four simple words were familiar to me, something I had tucked away to the bottom of my heart. I had said them as advice over the years to others who I had crossed paths with. But the only one who had said it to me was my mother. My poor mom who desperately tried to protect me from my dad's alcoholism. If only her pleadings had scraped into my hardhead. I didn't remember much about her. She died in a car accident when I was rather young. But one thing I did remember was how she constantly smelled like vanilla and roses. How she brought me doughnuts from the store on the corner when it had been a rough day. How she loved me. And how she was the only person who loved me for who I was. And how she said those words. Then I heard her soft voice whisper into my ear. "I love you Anthony. Remember, this too shall pass."


	3. Marshmellows and Sherlock

**Chapter 3**  
**Marshmellows and Sherlock**

**(CLINT'S POV)**

A-N:_They watch Sherlock in this chapter so if you haven't seen it, I recommend at least watching S1:E1. You won't regret it either. ;)And I'm decreasing the length in chapters sorry._

* * *

Things had been a little tense around the Tower lately. Steve had been edgy, something no one was used to. And Tony was being an ass, which everyone was used to.

To lighten the mood, I had decided to set up a few competitions. I politely asked Jarvis to go tell the others to get their butts into the kitchen.

One by one they filed in, all with questioning eyebrows.

"What's happening now?" Bruce asked, the last to enter.

"We're doing some challenges."

"Whatever this is, it's a bad idea," Natasha sat at a bar stool as I pulled out three bags of regular sized marshmellows from the cupboard. Thor's face brightened; he obviously had experienced what they were.

"We're doing the Marshmellow Challenge," I announced. Tony and Natasha both started laughing, since they must of done it before.

"Ya know, this should be illegal," Tony smiled. "People have died from it."

"And I say Steve is autimatically disqualifified. He doesn't need oxygen. He survived 70 years without it," Natasha smirked.

"That is a valid point. Steve, you're standing by in case any of us start choking."

He raised his hands in surrender. "I give up. Will someone please explain?"

Immediently, Tony started talking. "The Marshmellow Challenge is where you stuff as many marshmellows in your mouth as you can and keep them in there until you have to spit them out. Or until you pass out. Either way works."

"Sounds like the most stupid idea I've ever heard of but sure, I'll watch and apply CPR if necessary."

Thor nodded, "I'm in."

"Whatever," Bruce shrugged. "But if it releases The Other Guy I'm blaming Stark."

"Why me?"

"Because of out the six of us, if anyone would purposely piss off Bruce it would be you."

"I'm insulted."

"Good."

I ripped open the bags and dumped them on the counter. Everyone gathered around except Steve, who stayed a few feet back muttering stuff like _"this is such a bad idea" _and _"why am I letting them do this?"_.

"Okay, everyone ready?" I asked. They nodded. "Go!"

Immediently I stuffed about five in my mouth, which dried it and filled it with sugary powder. After that, I stuffed them in one by one, eventually ending up with 16.

Steve was in hysterics, "You all look like chipmunks on cheek steroids!"

I resisted the urge not to laugh. If I did, I would proabably choke.

Bruce was the first to go, spitting them out into the trash can and gasping for air after about fifteen seconds. At twenty-three seconds, I was next. That left Tony, Nat, and Thor. Bruce and I started betting. I had my money on Thor.

At thirty-three seconds, Natasha gave. We had reached forty when Tony started to choke. Instantly, Rogers rushed over and punched him "lightly" in the stomach. Marshmellows flew everywhere out of Stark's mouth. We all started laughing, temporarily forgetting the winner. I'm guessing Thor just started chewing, because after we contained ourselves, he opened his mouth to show it was empty.

As we were still laughing, the phone rang. Tony was rolling on the floor, so Steve helped him out by picking up the phone.

"Stark residence ... Oh, Director Fury! ... Yes, sir ... One moment, please," Steve covered the phone with his hand and yelled at us to shut up. Although we were still giggling, we covered our mouths with our hands to contain the sound. Tony was bellowing out in laughter, not giving a crap about the noise he was making.

"You'd like us to do what? ... To be honest, sir, I think we just did ... Pardon? Oh, what did we just do? Well, it was Clint's idea. I'll leave it at that ... Right, good day sir."

"What did Fury want?" Natasha asked.

"He said he wanted us to spend some 'bonding time'," Steve shrugged with a grin.

"That's seriously what he called for?" Bruce asked.

"I thought a mortal of his importance would have better tasks to do," Thor chuckled.

"Well, we're kinda a top priority," Tony stood up.

"You think you're everyone's top priority," Cap snapped.

"Aren't I?"

"To follow his orders, should we watch a movie or something?"

"Let's go shopping!"

"Tony, shut up."

"A movie sounds good," I agreed.

"I'll pick it out," Steve volunteered.

"NO!"

Everytime Steve picked out a movie, it was black and white with barely any action and someone always seemed to die at the end. Only he was fond of them.

"Okay, okay."

"Maybe we should go to the movies," Tony suggested.

"Us? In a movie theater? That's a very good idea, Tony, good job," Natasha said sarcastically.

"Fine. Pick one out then."

"I'll do it!" I shouted. This conversation sounded like it was going to turn into another argument, and arguments around here usually ended with someone getting a black eye or a concussion.

Just then, Pepper strutted in. "Tony, I need you to attend a- What the hell happened in here?" She exclaimed, as her eyes caught sight of the mess of wet marshmellows covering the kitchen floor.

Tony suddenly looked like a guilty kid who had just been caught eating a cookie before dinner. "Hey, Pepp. So what did you need?"

"Clean this up. I'm not even gonna ask for an explanation. And Tony, there's a conference on Thursday that you'll be needing to show up at."

"Then tell me on Thursday. That's two days from now, I won't remember."

"UGH!" Pepper stormed out. Tony and I high-fived. That earned us slaps in the head by the Widow.

"Why don't we watch Sherlock?" suggested Bruce.

"What's Sherlock?" five voices asked in unison.

"You guys haven't lived!" he yelled, immediently turning on the TV and Wii, directing himself to Netflix.

"I guess I know what we're watching."

"What's it about?" Steve asked.

"A crazy, smartass detective and a soldier-doctor solving crimes illegaly and shooting walls. Plus everyone thinks they're gay. That's about it."

"Sounds good to me," Tony flopped down on the sofa. "Steve, go make popcorn."

"Sure- wait, what? No! I don't even know how!"

"I'll do it," I sighed, getting up and placing a bag of popcorn in the microwave. "Jarvis, heat it up."

"Yes, sir," the voice replied and the familiar whirring of the device started.

As the first episode loaded, Bruce turned to Steve. "I think you'll like John. He's a soldier from Afghanistan."

Steve just nodded.

The scene opened with guns and war. Everyone looked at Rogers. Of course, he ignored us and continued to watch. Apparently it had been a flashback dream and it showed a blonde haired, middle aged man waking up sweating and with heavy breaths. Once again, everyone stared at the Captain.

"It's realistic, I'll give it that much," was all he said, and we left it at that.

It continued on with the same person. We learned his name was John, he lived alone, had a limp, wrote an online blog (which we had to explain to Steve what it was), and he went to a therapist. As the theme song and opening credits played, I passed out popcorn, which basically meant throwing handfuls into everyone's laps. We didn't care what messes we made. The marshmellows were still strewn on the floor, by the way.

After that were some confusing scenes with various people and dying because of pills. Bruce kept smiling like he knew something we didn't.

Tony was entertained when everyone in the room received the same text, as if he was getting an evil idea that he would use soon on the rest of us.

So far, Steve truly was enjoying the character John.

The man hitting the dead person with the riding crop was extremely interesting. Especially after he smartassed John.

By the end of the episode, we decided on which character we were each like the most. Steve was definately John, and when Stark said they'd make a cute couple he earned a decent punch in the jaw by the super soldier. After they had gotten ice on it, we asked Steve to apologize but he was stubborn and refused.

We decided Tony was like Anderson, since nobody likes him and he annoys everyone. Bruce was closest to DI Lestrade. Fury was Mycroft. Thor said Sherlock reminded him of Loki.

We started another episode. And another. When we got to Irene Adler in "The Great Game", we all turned to Natasha. She blushed.

By the time we were done with the third episode we were all on the edge of our seats and Bruce looked rather pleased. Although we had started at 3 o'clock, it was now 8:26 pm.

"Start the next one!" Tony commanded, throwing a single piece of popcorn at Bruce.

"We need to know what happens!" I jumped up.

"I've turned you all into fangirls," Bruce smirked.


	4. Plot Twist

**Chapter 4**

**Plot Twist**

**A-N**_ So I've changed up the story a bit. A very important OC is about to be introduced :)_

* * *

**NATASHA'S POV**

"WE NEED A MISSION!" Steve shouted as he walked into the kitchen. He had his American suit on and shield in hand. Everyone stopped eating dinner and stared at him. Nobody, including myself, had seen him all day until now.

"Sheesh, calm down Capsicle," Tony rolled his eyes.

"I just can't stand it anymore!" he exclaimed. And when Captain America is yelling at you in his full uniform... I was even frightened for a few seconds.

"Stand what?!" Clint yelled back at him.

"Sitting around here doing nothing! I was trained to do stuff, complete missions and kick Hydra's butts. So unless anyone wants to join me, I'm going to SHIELD and asking for something to do!"

I wanted to go with him, I really did. But unfortunately Clint and I were off on our own mission tomorrow morning and I couldn't leave until then. Therefore, nobody moved.

"Fine then! Fine!" he stormed out.

That was one week ago.

We hadn't heard from Steve for 6 and a half days now. Barton and I had returned four days ago, rushing our duties so we could return as soon as possible. SHIELD had said he would be home tonight if all went well. That was the reason everyone was waiting in the lobby at 1 am waiting for some sign of his arrival. I must say we were all worried, myself included which didn't happen often.

An hour passed, and another. Although no one went up to their bed, both Tony and Bruce had fallen asleep, slumped down in a chair.

It was 4 am before anything happened. Thor and I were the only ones left awake, yet my phone's loud ringing awoke a few others. I jumped on it and where it had been lying at the table, to see it was SHIELD.

"Agent Romanoff."

Fury's voice answered. _"Agent Romanoff, Rogers has been comprimised. We haven't heard from him since two days ago when he briefly checked to say he was doing okay and everything was going according to plan. Has anyone in the Tower been in contact?"_

"No," I replied. "Please, tell us where he is and we'll go find him."

"Last time we could track him, he was in California but we don't know if that's accurate anymore."

"What was his mission?"

"Centepede had built another lab and we still haven't heard from Agent Coulson who has been taken captive by them. We sent Cap in to see if he could do anything."

"Give me an address. The Avengers are about to go knocking on their door." He gave me the address and I wrote it down in the Notepad on my iPhone.

"Good luck."

Instead of finding a pillow for ammo, I slapped Tony Stark and Barton in the face. Since I had to be more careful with Banner, I simply shook him awake. Stark didn't look pleased.

"What's happening?"

"We are preparing in a search for Steven. Everyone is required to suit up," Thor commanded.

"That won't be necessary," Clint hopped up rushing to the door. A single headlight shone through the darkness, coming toward the building. It had to be Steve on his motorcycle.

Sure enough, a few minutes later we watched him park in his usual spot. However, there seemed to be two figures on the bike. We watched from where we were. He picked up the other figure who had been riding with him bride-style. The person seemed unconsious or sleeping. When he entered, nobody said anything.

"You guys waited up for me?" he half-smiled.

"Who is that?" I questioned.

"Her name is Agent Kay Lynn and-"

"Oh my gawd! I didn't even recognize her!" exclaimed Clint.

To be honest, neither had I. Kay's layered auburn hair was dirty and knotted; her skin was dirty and makeup almost all the way worn off. I had met her before under better circumstances and she usually was a beautiful, man-candy woman.

"She needs medical attention now," Cap instructed.

After we got over the shock of seeing Cap actually caring for a woman, I noticed he was also injured. There were rips in his uniform and it looked like he had been shot, several times.

"Captain, you are hurt!" Thor took Kay out of his arms, which let the Captain lean onto Tony's shoulder. Seeing as Tony was about 1 and 1/2 foot shorter and extremely smaller, he collasped under the Captain's weight. Of course, Rogers decided it was a good time to pass out on top of Stark.

"Ugh! Get off you big-" Tony whined underneath.

It took Clint, Bruce and I to roll Steve off and onto his back. Nobody noticed Tony who was trying to catch his breath.

"Yo! Dying person over here!" Stark waved his hands.

"Man up, Barbie," I told him, even though he probably just got a few ribs broken.

The next morning, I was surprised to see Steve out of bed at his usual 5:25. We were always the first ones to wake up and therefore shared a cup of coffee while I went online and he read the_ New York Times_. He winced with almost every abrupt move.

"You should be resting," I snapped at him, pointing to the couch.

"Silence," he responded.

"What happened?"

He chuckled, but quickly clutched his side in pain. "That's a long story."

"I've got all day," I replied, helping him with his coffee.

"I don't want to say it twice. I'll explain it once for everyone."

That was agreeable, and I left him alone for a bit while he read the paper.

"Ya know, did they have any technology in the forties?"

"There were nuclear weapons, microwaves, and colored television. It wasn't that bad."

"The fact that you just said 'colored televison'..."

"Oh please," he smirked. But his smile faded. "What happened last night? I don't remember anything after falling onto Stark."

"Well you kinda passed out on him which knocked the air out of him and broke a few of his ribs. It was pretty entertaining though. After that, Clint, Bruce and I managed to get you into bed. Bruce bandaged you up best he could with you lying down. We weren't exactly eager to try to pick you up again. And you get to fill me on the morning."

"What about Kay?"

"Bruce also gave her medical attention. She's on oxygen."

"Crap. I gotta go be there when she wakes up. Or else, she's gonna tear this place up."

"What?"

Following him, I had to sprint to keep up with his slow run.


End file.
